"Has it come up yet?"

I flung the words at him, casting strategy to the winds.

"It 'as, Major, an' I'm sorry to say we've lorst it. I never see such a
thing. There was a gent there as meant to 'ave it. 'Cept for 'im, there
wasn't a bid after twenty-five pounds. I never thort we'd 'ave to go
over fifty, neither. Might 'a bin the owner 'isself, the way 'e was
runnin' us up. An' when we was in the eighties, I sez to meself, I sez,
'The one as calls a nundred first 'as it. So 'ere goes.' 'Eighty-nine,'
sez'e. 'A nundred pound,' sez I, bold-like. 'Make it guineas,' sez he,
as cool as if 'e was buyin' a naporth o' figs. I tell you. Major, it
fair knocked me, it did. I come all of a tremble, an' me knees----"

"Where's the fellow who bought it?" said I.

"I'm afraid it's no good, Major. I tell you 'e meant to 'ave them
drawers."

With an effort I mastered my impatience.

"Will you tell me where he is? Or, if he's gone, find out----"

"I don't think 'e's gorn," said Mr. Holly, looking round. "I 'alf
think----There 'e is," he cried, suddenly, nodding over my shoulder.
"That's 'im on the stairs, with the lady in blue."

Excitedly I swung round, to see my brother-in-law languidly descending
the staircase, with Miss Childe by his side.